Mask Behind A Mask
by Round Robins
Summary: Erik is a spy for the French government in exchange for not being prosecuted for his crimes, but at what price? Round Robin authors, Kay Blue Eyes, ToryD, terpsichore314, Katiekay90, Secretly Secretly, milegre, AngeMusique, Splendorous Night Unfurled
1. Chapter 1

_Welcome mes amis, to Round Robins. This story, Mask Behind A Mask, will feature the talents of Kay Blue Eyes in chapter one. Subsequent chapters will be by ToryD, KatieKay90, terpsichore314, Secretly Secretly, milegre, AngeMusique, Splendorous Night Unfurled, MJMod_

_**Mask Behind A Mask**_

_**Chapter 1**_

_**Author - Kay Blue Eyes**_

_**Beta - terpsichore314**_

The clouds hung low and heavy over the Parisian skyline, weeping torrents of large, cold raindrops onto the heads of the few unfortunates caught outside. On the streets small puddles gathered between the cobblestones, giving the ground a mirrorlike sheen. Horses, with their heads hung low, plodded soberly along, pulling the countless numbers of covered coaches which had appeared with the first signs of raindrops and that now clogged the streets in almost every direction.

One carriage in particular broke free of the snarled mess of the main thoroughfares, and speedily wove its way into the back alleys which were decidedly less crowded. Lacquered black paint glittered almost jewel-like through the mist along the sides of the custom built conveyance as it moved stealthily through passages no other dared to traverse.

Perched atop the quickly moving vehicle, a hunched figure, clothed in black from head to toe, sat with his head bent against the pelting rain. Removing a hand from the reins, he jerked the hood of his cloak just a little tighter about his face as he passed a group of teenaged girls huddling under the eave of a storefront. Urging his pair of black horses into a slightly faster clip the man allowed a dark smirk to pull at his mouth as he tilted his head to the side and watched the group of twittering youngsters get splashed by the spray from his flying wheels.

Turning back around to face the road in front of him he shook his dripping hood from side to side as the girls shrieked in protest, their cries fading to a muffled whisper when the dark carriage took a sharp right. Clucking encouragingly to the horses, the man made his way expertly through the rain, only slowing the pace as he pulled up alongside a respectably sized yellow brick town house. Leaning over from his seat, the cloaked man grabbed hold of a brass lever located to the side of a large wooden gate and gave it a jerk. Silently the doors to the side of the carriage slid open, the many gears and mechanisms behind them completely hidden within the walls surrounding the small courtyard to the side of the house.

Backing the carriage up slightly, the man turned through the gates and pulled to a stop within a small barnlike structure that stood along one side of the courtyard. Gathering up the hem of his cloak in one hand, he leapt gracefully to the ground and began the tedious process of unhooking his team and stowing away the gear. Leading the horses into their respective stalls, he spent some time brushing them down.

Satisfied that everything was taken care of within the barn, the hooded man grabbed a leatherbound case from within the carriage and made a dash for a side door leading into the two-story house. Stepping inside the doorway, the man glanced hurriedly about the tidy kitchen within and began to quietly slink across the stone floor. He had made it halfway to the narrow servants' stairwell on the other side of the room when an outraged gasp sounded behind him.

"Monsieur!!" a high feminine voice shrieked. "Do not move another step or I will have your hide for a belt!!"

Freezing in mid-step the man hunched his shoulders guiltily and turned to face the red-faced middle-aged woman now standing in the middle of the kitchen. "Pardon me, madame?" the man asked evenly as he reached up to pull back the hood from his head, revealing a bone white mask covering half of his face.

Waving a wooden spoon about in the air, completely unfazed by the unusual sight of the mask, the older woman pursed her lips into a stern line. "Do not act innocent, Monsieur Erik," she huffed with a dramatic stab of the spoon. "You know full well you are dripping mud and water all over my clean floors, and I will not allow you to continue on dragging filth all over the house!!"

Straightening to his full height, Erik fixed the plump woman with an icy glare, irritation sharpening the blue of his eyes to razor edges. "You will not _allow_? Madame Claire, I am the master of this house and I am perfectly within my rights to do exactly as I please. If I choose to drip water from here to the attic then I shall do so. And I would suggest checking your tongue if you wish to remain employed as my cook." Crossing his arms across his chest, Erik raised one dark brow in a quelling expression and waited coolly for a response.

Narrowing her eyes fractionally, Madame Claire began to tap her foot against the stone floor, a bad sign. "Monsieur Erik…" she began.

Raising a hand up to swipe at the water dripping from his dark hair, Erik felt a scowl pull down at his mouth. "For the hundredth time… please do not refer to me as Monsieur _Erik_," he interrupted. "It is entirely inappropriate and…."

"Monsieur Erik!" Madame Claire repeated in a louder tone, causing her master's scowl to deepen into a fierce grimace. "If that is the case… should I prepare cabbage stew for tonight's dinner now or in an hour?"

"Madame, you know how I abhor cabbage stew!" Erik blustered, his scowl slipping slightly at the mere thought of his least favorite food. _Good God I can imagine the smell now… it won't leave the place even after a week's airing!_

The touch of a smile momentarily curved the corners of the cook's lips as she stared Erik down with an unflinching eye. "Oh my… it must have slipped my mind," she said slowly, raising her eyebrows with a pointed look.

"How dare you!!" Erik bellowed, his temper finally exploding at the bold-faced defiance. Cursing incoherently, he nearly slipped in the puddle of water his cloak had dripped under his feet. When he noticed that his shouts had had little effect on his cook's stance, he shut his mouth and set to glaring holes in Madame Claire's head.

A moment passed as a battle of two mighty wills warred between the two and then suddenly Erik growled and threw his hands into the air, the prospect of a dinner of nothing but cabbage stew finally wearing down his resolve. "You must be very secure in your position here."

Seeing that she had won, Madame Claire relaxed and smiled happily. "I am indeed, Monsieur Erik. Now if you please… remove your cloak and shoes before continuing up the stairs."

Grudgingly doing as the woman asked, Erik shook his head in wonder over the terror that was his cook. _Who would have thought that the bloody Phantom of the Opera would be so easily led by the might of a mere woman… Though I have to admit Madame Claire is no ordinary woman. I suspect she is something more akin to the spawn of Satan._ Eyeing the cook, he tossed his shoes and cloak into the corner in an act of petulant rebellion that he just couldn't stop himself from performing. Snatching up his leatherbound case from the floor, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room and up the stairs.

Muttering to himself, he climbed the stairs and made a beeline for the master bedroom at the end of the hallway, unbuttoning his white cotton shirt as he went. Trudging into the room, he flung off his wet clothes and moved to rummage through the wardrobe for a change. Pulling on a clean pair of pants he set the case in his hands upon a large oak desk. Completely forgetting to tug on his dry shirt he sat down and opened the case. Ignoring the pile of handwritten music sheets within, he pressed a hidden button near one corner. A panel along the top of the case popped open with a click, revealing an unaddressed envelope nestled within the secret compartment. Pulling out the envelope, Erik glanced over his shoulder quickly before tearing it open. A single piece of white paper lay within.

_Monsieur, _

_Your singular services are once again required to insure the continued prosperity of France and, I hope I need not remind you, to likewise insure the state's pardon of your many, many past crimes. I am aware that you have just finished gathering some very useful information and no doubt wish to rest. Therefore, I have not scheduled you to meet with your contact until tomorrow night. At one a.m. tomorrow a coach will be waiting for you three blocks south of your residence. Your contact will provide further instructions at that time. Do not be late._

_Your Beleaguered Servant,_

_BB_

_P.S. This time do not forget some decent rainwear. _

Folding the letter in half, Erik leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. It had been three years since the night Don Juan had been performed at the Opera Populaire and the subsequent end of the legend of the Phantom of the Opera, but at times, he swore, it felt more like a lifetime since he had roamed the underground passages of that place. Somehow he had managed to survive the raging fire that the fall of the chandelier had caused, though looking back now he wondered what had driven him to flee his smoldering home and not commit suicide on the spot. Homeless and heartbroken he had wandered the streets of Paris for days, not caring if he lived or died, but then something miraculous happened. On the one occasion he had traveled close to the theater, in a desperate bid to at least have his final resting place be in near the opera house, he had stumbled into the one person he was sure he would never see again.

Drenched to the bone and looking not much better than a drowned sewer rat, Christine Daae had somehow spotted his slumped figure. Smiling now at the memory, Erik recalled the blank shock he had felt upon seeing her sweet form running towards him through cold winter's sleet. To put it simply she had come back to him after having realized where her heart truly lay, a mere day after the horrendous disaster. Glancing down at the wedding ring upon his left ring finger, Erik's smile grew with wonder. They had been married for just over two years now.

But it hadn't been much more than a week after returning from their honeymoon trip, and just as Erik was beginning to become successful as a genuine composer, that a mysterious letter had arrived with his name upon it. The contents were simple and to the point. Certain people had heard of his infamy as the Phantom, as well as his seemingly supernatural gifts at secrecy and subterfuge, and they wanted him to use those abilities for what they called "governmental information gathering," or spying. If he refused it was made clear that he would face the guillotine within the month. It hadn't taken much thought on his part to consider what he had to do. And though he had faced some rather close calls along the way, he had found that he rather enjoyed the spark of danger in his secret occupation; enjoyed everything except one thing. He could never, ever tell his wife what he really did when he was out "working" late.

Frowning down at the letter in his hand now, Erik completely missed the whisper-soft tread of footsteps sneaking up behind him. "What are you doing?" a soft voice whispered almost directly into his ear.


	2. Chapter 2

_Welcome mes amis, to Round Robins. This story, Mask Behind A Mask, will feature the talents of many different authors, to wit: Kay Blue Eyes in chapter one; ToryD chapter 2; terpsichore314 chapter 3; subsequent chapters will be by KatieKay90, Secretly Secretly, milegre, AngeMusique, Splendorous Night Unfurled, MJMod_

_**Mask Behind A Mask**_

**_A/N Hello all, this is a major M rated chapter. This is the hottest scene I have ever written so be warned. Thanks for all of your unending support of me and the other amazing authors who have worked so hard on this and our other round robin project. I am really enjoying being a part of such a fun exercise in writing. Well, on with our story; please let us know what you think in your reviews. Tory_**

**_Chapter 2_**

**_Author - ToryD_**

**_Beta - terpsichore314 (Beta Extraordinaire!)_**

Erik smiled as he felt Christine's sweet breath caress his ear warmly. Turning, he gently took her into his strong arms. "What I am doing, my dear, is trying not to wake you," he said ruefully as he began to tenderly stroke her back.

"I couldn't sleep," Christine said with a contented sigh. She leaned into her strong husband's chest, enjoying the familiar closeness that they shared. "Why are you home so late?" she asked as she reached up to remove his mask.

Erik stiffened slightly at her question, hating the necessity of lying to his beloved wife. "I lost track of time," he replied evasively and pulled away abruptly, unable to face her because of his deception.

Frowning, Christine watched Erik begin to remove his boots as he prepared for bed. Something had been bothering Erik over the last several months, something that she knew he was purposely hiding from her. But what? her worried mind questioned. What could he be so concerned about that he was fearful to tell her, she, who knew his deepest and darkest secrets? "Erik, do you think we could get away from the city for a few days?" she asked hopefully, wanting only to grant Erik some time away from the unending pressures of the opera house. It would be a time for them to talk openly, and for them both to reveal their respective secrets. Smiling softly to herself, Christine placed a protective hand on her still flat stomach as she anticipated Erik's reaction to her happy news.

"I'm not sure if that would be possible, Christine," he said tiredly. "The rehearsals are not going as well as I had hoped." Erik turned and pinned her with a slightly accusatory glance. "Your fault if the truth be known."

Christine smiled at him coquettishly. "I have other things to occupy my time now," she said saucily. She slowly approached her husband of two years, teasingly undoing the ties to her lacy night dress.

Erik felt his heart begin to race at the look of promise in Christine's velvety brown eyes. "Such as?" Erik asked huskily as he stared intently at the tantalizing vision of his sexy wife before him.

Loving the feel of empowerment she had over the man who was her entire world, Christine boldly reached for Erik's belt, purposely trailing her fingers lightly over his firm stomach, secretly enjoying his sharp intake of breath at her touch. "I have my wifely duties that need my unfettered attention," she said in a throaty tone, exploding an instant heat in Erik.

"Christine," her name was torn from his lips, his uncontrolled desire threatening to engulf him. Lifting his own hand, he lightly began to trail his long fingers along the delicate line of her collarbone, still amazed even after all this time that she not only allowed his touch, but she welcomed it with an obvious answering passion.

As Christine pulled his belt free, she closed her eyes and savored the seductive touch of her husband's skilled hands as he tenderly caressed the tops of her creamy breasts. "Erik," she moaned his name in a soft purr, her clever hands quickly undoing the fastenings of his trousers. Flattening the palm of her hand against his taut stomach, she slowly slipped her hand into the opening of his pants, seeking him out with a wild eagerness.

Erik clenched his teeth tightly in the effort to try to maintain some semblance of control as Christine's soft hand began to circle the thick length of his throbbing manhood. "I need you now!" His whispered cry was uttered only a brief second before he scooped her up in his arms and carried her purposely towards the massive oak bed. His seeking mouth joined with hers in a quest to assuage the desire that threatened to overtake his entire being.

Christine met his insistent tongue with her own, as the heat of their shared passions enveloped them both.

Erik lowered her bare feet to the floor gently as he continued with his deep demanding kiss. With his hands he easily rent the front of Christine's night dress, enjoying the look of shocked desire that alighted in his beloved wife's eyes. Quickly divesting Christine of her ruined night clothes, he shrugged off his pants and lifted her to gently place her upon the soft welcoming bed. He joined her on the bed, watching her with an intense flare of passion within his heated blue gaze.

With her kiss-swollen lips slightly parted, Christine leaned up to kiss Erik's scarred cheek reverently, loving him with an unquestioned certainty to transcend all time.

Erik felt humbled by her. This beautiful woman who saw past a scarred visage to rescue the man who dwelled in a private hell that only held pain. This amazing woman who had accepted him for the man he was, not the monster that the unfeeling world deemed him. His beautiful Christine, his wife. Gently kissing her lips, he felt overpowering emotion fill him. He wanted nothing more than to love this woman, to begin a family with her, to grow old and share all that the world had to offer. But as with all things in life, he had to pay a price. A high price that threatened all that he held dear. An unavoidable price that must be met in order to protect the life that God had granted him with his Christine.

Christine felt Erik's tension, and felt as if a hole were being pierced in her heart. "Erik?" she said concernedly, seeing his tense features. Reaching up, she caressed his furrowed brow in an attempt to smooth away the lines of his worry.

Erik caught her caressing hand and brought it to his soft lips, kissing the inside of her palm with a deep reverence borne of his immense feelings for his wife. "I love you, Christine," he said with a simple honesty that brought tears of joy to her soft loving eyes.

"Erik," she answered, her reciprocating love shaking him to his very soul.

Leaning down he took her trembling lips in a deep kiss, gaining entrance with his seeking tongue, savoring the sweetness that was only his Christine.

Christine reached up and threaded her hands into Erik's thick black hair, as she moaned in response to his drugging kiss. Feeling the fire of passion enclosing them, Christine arched up in a desperate unspoken plea.

Erik let her passions ignite his own, and with an ardor to equal hers, parted her slim thighs and began to caress her lovingly with his seeking hand.

Christine gave herself up to Erik's expert touch, clutching at his strong shoulders in an unsuccessful attempt to hold at bay the all-encompassing wave of ecstasy that enveloped her.

Erik reveled in the throaty moans his knowing touch elicited from her, thrilled that it was he who could bring her to such a peak of unbearable rapture. The urgency of her cries exciting him to the brink of insanity, he began to trail a series of light kisses along her neck, slowly inching towards her sweet yielding breasts.

Christine drew in a sharp breath as she felt Erik's tongue and seeking mouth pay homage to her erect nipples. Arching up to give him greater access, Christine felt as if her whole body was about to explode at his loving ministrations.

Erik trailed a line of open mouth kisses along her smooth flat stomach as he slid down to the sweet juncture of her thighs.

"Erik!" Christine cried out in excitement as she felt Erik begin to gift her with the most intimate of kisses. The warm sensation of his tongue slipped inside the tender crease, transporting her past the reality of this world to a plane that only held exquisite pleasure. Breathless, she drifted in a realm of unbearable ecstasy.

Erik, mindful of her low, pleading groans of undeniable bliss, continued the quest to catapult her to the highest peak of otherworldly existence.

Christine clutched at the bed with her hands, her body trembling violently beneath Erik's seeking tongue. Her moans of pleasure filled the room, the intoxicating sounds exciting Erik's senses, his loving assault driven by his unquenchable need. Christine's body began to shudder deeply as convulsive spasms began to radiate throughout her body. Erik pressed a gentle kiss to her as he reveled in her ultimate tribute to his loving.

Christine's breathing was beginning to return to normal when Erik moved up over her so that he could look deeply into her passion-filled eyes. Not uttering one word, he entered her slowly, feeling her enclose around his thick length as he came to rest joyously inside her. Leaning down he kissed her deeply as he began to rock gently within her.

Christine gasped, a renewed passion spreading within her as Erik set in motion a slow tantalizing rhythm. She arched up in an attempt to increase his unhurried pace, desperate to obtain the promise of ecstasy that awaited them both.

Erik felt his control begin to slip as Christine arched up to meet his deep thrusts with a forcefulness that threatened his very sanity. No longer able to restrain himself, Erik began thrusting deep and hard within her, his low passionate groans transporting them both over the pinnacle simultaneously in a brilliant spiral of breathless wonder.

As their breathing began to return to normal, Erik rolled over and tucked Christine protectively within his arms. Leaning down his kissed her temple lovingly. "I love you," he said in a voice for her ears only.

Smiling contently, Christine snuggled into her husband. "I love you Erik," she said with a patent truth that never ceased to amaze him. Exhausted after their exuberant lovemaking, Christine quickly drifted off to sleep safely within her husband's arms.

Erik held her close to his heart, his mind in turmoil at the untenable situation he found himself in. How could he go on with this double life, how could he continue to hide his secret from her? his anxious mind taunted him. Erik worried about the ominous threats he received upon Christine's life if he did not follow the carefully laid out instructions. He felt an overwhelming rage fill him at the thought of anyone harming his wife.

Unconsciously he tightened his hold upon her sleeping form, causing her to moan slightly in discomfort. Releasing his tightening grip, he began to caress her in a soothing motion in order to ease her back into a restful sleep. Leaning down he kissed her lightly as she settled back into a dream-filled state. Closing his eyes, Erik wondered how much longer he could protect them both, for surely the time was approaching when a choice would need to be made. A choice that would change the course of their lives forever.


End file.
